


Ready to Go (Get Me Out of My Mind)

by elvish



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gay Chicken, M/M, No Homo, alfred is completely straight you guys, he just has the doki dokis for gilbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:23:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elvish/pseuds/elvish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred throws a Halloween party and decides it's a wonderful idea to play gay chicken. Gilbert, his first crush, just happens to be his opponent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready to Go (Get Me Out of My Mind)

**Author's Note:**

> oh goodness i waited until the very last possible second to write this fic. asdkksjdh gomenne.  
> for paint-it-pruame's trick or treat fic exchange!  
> song is in reference to the panic! at the disco song bc 1) unoriginal yay 2) it was stuck in my head and is somewhat relevant to this story  
> as always, i'm open to fic requests! send ideas to my tumblr, kingcailans

Halloween was always Alfred's favorite holiday. Besides his own birthday, of course. Between junk food and cute girls in costume, what wasn't there to love?

Nearing the spooky season, he would often stay up through obscene hours of the night, reading creepypasta while curled up into himself under his blankets in his pitch-black room. He'd then make a mad run to Matt's room, who would shoot up in bed before realizing it was Alfred, roll his eyes and mutter something along the lines of "go back to bed, Al." Sometimes, Alfred would climb into bed with him, freaked out of his mind. This happened more than he would like to admit.

Alfred's Halloween parties had a reputation. He invited everyone he knew, much to his brother's chagrin (because, unfortunately, his bedroom was often the one people chose to have sex in -- too many times had he walked in on people going at in his bed). He dressed up his house in tacky decorations and placed bowls overflowing with candy on every available surface. He even got strobe lights for the living room.

This particular Halloween, he was a cowboy. He wore a leather vest, boots, hat and all. When questioned, Alfred replied in a cheesy western accent, "save a horse, ride a cowboy." Most laughed at his expense.

During a lull in the party after a painstaking round of truth or dare, he suggested a game of gay chicken. Most of the partygoers were at least a little tipsy by that point (including Alfred himself), so he had to do little convincing to get people to play.

After Arthur rather unfortunately landed on Francis, so he then flushed red and claimed the game was rigged, storming out of the room. Then it was Alfred's turn. The bottle spun once, twice, and -- landed on Gilbert, who was wearing a form-fitting military outfit.

Whom Alfred totally had not been checking out earlier, thank you very much. He definitely did not have a thing for guys in uniform.

Gilbert gave a snarky grin, moving in closer. "Alright. Let's do this, Amerika," he beckoned, thick German accent shining through. Why was Alfred getting so jittery? He was definitely straight. There was no questioning it. He liked chicks. And the crush he'd been suppressing since the Revolutionary War was absolutely not resurfacing fiercely.

Alfred crawled over to Gilbert and sat in front of him, hoping his face didn't look as red as it felt.  
"Nervous?" Gilbert snorted.  
Apparently it did.  
Alfred looked incredulously at him. "No, dude. Why would I be nervous? I'm great at this game."  
Gilbert gave him a skeptical look, closing the distance between them a little and taking Alfred's cowboy hat off, revealing mussed hair. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.  
"We'll see."

Refusing to back down, the blonde stayed completely rigid as Gilbert edged in ever closer. He was starting to go cross-eyed, so he shut his eyes, and --  
the Prussian's lips were on his own. They were soft, slightly chapped, but pleasant. Alfred melted a little. He could feel Gilbert's taunting smile on his mouth. Gilbert slid a warm hand onto Alfred's lower thigh, obviously trying to surprise him. He stayed diligent, only jumping and squeaking a little at the sudden touch. He could hear snickers and giggles bubbling up around the circle, but they sounded far away.

Gilbert slid his hand up further on Alfred's thigh, rubbing lightly, and pressed his lips harder. Alfred reluctantly opened his mouth a little to grant him access. The kiss deepened, and someone in the circle whistled. Alfred only pulled back when Gilbert's hand slid even further up his thigh, and something short circuited in his brain.  
Gilbert pulled back, a smirk spread widely across his face. "That expression looks good on you." He placed Alfred's hat back on his head. They were still only a short distance from one another.

Gilbert leaned in next to Alfred's ear to whisper. "Why don't I stay a little while after the party?"  
The American didn't think his face could possibly get any redder. "No homo," he muttered, looking away. Gilbert took that as a yes.  
Throughout the remainder of the party, they would catch each other's eye once in a while. Alfred couldn't get the damned guy off his mind. That dumb accent, those stupid red eyes.

After the last guest left, Alfred was about to head to sleep. He started taking off his costume. Headed through the living room, he stopped dead in his tracks. On his couch sat a silver-haired man, still drinking beer out of a red Solo cup long after everyone else had their share.  
He felt his face heat up again. He covered it with his hand. "Bro, I didn't think you were being serious." Gilbert laughed and rose to his feet.

A bit later, and they were playing tonsil hockey against the wall. Through quick breaths, Alfred managed to get out a "bed?" to which Gilbert replied with a nod.  
They managed to make it to his bedroom (not his brother's) and they fell gracelessly onto the bed, half their clothes already tossed to the floor. To begin with, Gilbert was on top. Dissatisfied, Alfred rolled them over to reverse positions. Gilbert, irked, flipped them over again, but this time they fell off the bed. Shrugging, they kept at it.  
"Do you have any condoms?" Gilbert asked between kisses.

"What?"  
"Con-doms. Rubber dick umbrellas."  
"Oh. Uh, no, I don't have any."  
Gilbert pulled back and gave Alfred a look as if to say, _really_?  
He then fetched the pants he'd previously discarded and retrieved a silver packet from one of the pockets.

~

When Alfred woke up the next morning, he was lying on the floor with a blanket awkwardly draped on him, shirtless. Gilbert was nowhere to be found. Alfred tried to bite back the disappointed feelings that bubbled up in his chest. What was he expecting, really?  
That's when the smell of bacon graced his nose.  
Smiling to himself, he went to the kitchen, only to find Matthew making breakfast. His heart sank.

"G'morning, Al."  
"Mornin', Matt."


End file.
